Home Alone at the Plaza
by z dream
Summary: Eloise is 23, and still up to her old tricks. But she's not alone. Kevin just got a job at the Plaza, just as a robberies start there. A deal is made:she helps him catch the thieves, he helps her w/her new match-making scheme.What could go wrong?...
1. Chapter 1 Eloise's Plan

**Eloise**

I'm Eloise. I'm 23. I'm a city girl. I live at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. And I have just arrived from Paris after a failed attempt to cheer up my dear friend Stella Love.

"Thanks for the trip and for trying to cheer me up, Eloise," Stella said glumly as she gave a sad smile, "But I think it'll take some more time before I get over Oliver."

"Oh, please! It should take no time at all!" I said, handing my luggage to Randle, the bell boy. "He was out of his right mind to cheat on you!" I loved Stella dearly, but, at times, she was so **so **_**so**_ frustrating. It had been nearly six months since her ex-boyfriend Oliver lost his senses. Then again, after giving her heart to that nitwit for three years, it was understandable how she would be down, but even so… Just as I was about to further continue my rant on how she should finally move on, I spotted a straight haired brunette at the front desk speaking to Mr. Salomone, but not just any brunette...

"Rose!" I exclaimed trying to get her attention. She turned and her face lit up when she saw me. We both ran to each other and hugged the way two best friends who hadn't seen each other in a week and a half would-and, let me tell you, for best friends, a week and a half is a dreadfully long time.

She greeted Stella as well who politely responded back. They weren't really friends- to be honest they probably only really talked to each other on my account. It wasn't any reason in particular besides the fact that they didn't have much in common with each other. But, to be honest, I didn't have an incredible amount in common with Stella either-definitely not as much as I had in common with Rose. I suppose our love of travel is truly what ties our friendship together, that and the fact that she used to tutor me when we attended Miss Madeline Prep here in New York.

"Welcome back, Eloise," Mr. Salomone said coming towards us in his usual friendly manner. Amazing how people can mellow with age.

"A pleasure to be back, Mr. Salomone," I replied, taking a look around the Plaza. It was festively decorated for the holidays with holly, ornaments, and tinsel. And I was pleased to see the tree had been brought in while I was gone. "Was Jacobs taken care of?" Mr. Salomone chuckled.

"Don't worry; your Jack Russell terrier is fine. Although, I admit, he did get into a bit of mischief, not unlike his owner does," he said giving me a knowing look. I blushed. A wave of comfort swept over me. Some things just don't change.

I was finally home.

But that, of course, didn't change the fact that my attempt to cheer up Stella had failed; but I, Eloise LaBelle, was not one to quit easily.


	2. Chapter 2 Kevin's Announcment

**Kevin**

"New York, huh," Buzz said that night when I told the family about the job. It was one of those occasional nights when we were all able to get together- what with everyone's jobs and the kids and all; that and the fact that Megan, her husband, and two kids lived in Florida. Tonight, we were all at Jeff's house, since it was the biggest. Lawyers made good money these days.

"I think that's great Uncle Kevin," June said from her place across from me, "Maybe you'll be able to see Ms. Liberty!" I smiled at my front-toothless little niece.

"But, Kevin, New York's so far away!" my mom said with concern in her voice.

"Oh, come on, Mom; it's not the first time he took a job outta state," Buzz said. I opened my mouth to reply then quickly clapped it shut.

I may not have liked it, but Buzz was right- in the past three years alone I'd taken on three jobs- one in Ohio, one in Florida, and one here in Illinois. I'd been able to take my college course online and I had family that let me stay with them when I had jobs in Ohio and Florida, so the moving wasn't really an issue. And it wasn't that I was a bad employee and got fired all the time. It was just that I couldn't find a job I found interesting enough. Being a substitute teacher wasn't for me, neither was being a security guard or an ice cream taste tester. I was fine at all these jobs, but I didn't like any of them enough to keep 'em. I was really hoping that this time would be different, though I had a few doubts.

"But, where will you stay?" my mother asked, again, with motherly concern.

"Uncle Rob still has his place in New York," I explained, "and, since he doesn't use it much, it's up for rent. He already has a tenant, but he said I could stay there too." Before my mom could ask I quickly added, "His tenant is twenty-four, single, in college, has no drug history, and doesn't mind sharing the house."

"I think that's great Kevin. But I surprised you've taken an _interest_ in accounting," Dad said smiling at his own corny joke. I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

"Well, I do really like math." And the dollar signs that would be on that check were also to my liking.

"Yes, but you _don't_ like sitting around at a desk all day," Linnie said taking a sip of her soda.

"I've never really done it to know if I don't like it," I said, taking a sip of my own soda. "And, besides, it's an accounting gig for the _Plaza Hotel_," I said with a flourish, "I wouldn't wanna pass that up." The dinner conversation digressed after that. It was all settled. The next day I would be heading over to Buzz's, where I lived, to pack my stuff for New York


	3. Chapter 3 Cupid to Eloise

**Eloise**

"What about Steven Q.?" I asked Stella.

"No way," she said shaking her head. The line at Starbucks was moving at a snail pace speed, which wasn't a problem for me because it was one of the incredibly rare days when I was free- admittedly on purpose- and I had dedicated that day to finding someone new for Stella.

"Why not?" I asked, though I could already guess the answer. Trust me, suggesting Steven Q. was not something I thought I would've been reduced to.

"Because all he talks about is punk rock, a subject of which I know _nothing _about. And besides, his face is probably more metal than flesh with all those piercings. And why are you all of a sudden so determined to get me into a relationship?" I gave her a look that had oh-come-on-are-you-serious written all over it.

"I have tried absolutely everything else I could think of: shopping, travel, carnivals, even Lily's cake couldn't cheer you up! You haven't been to any of your favorite restaurants and you haven't tried any new recipes! It is not like you at all." She didn't say anything and avoided my gaze for a few moments, while my eyes never left her. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the inevitable happened, considering how shoe-box small the store was. Someone collided into Stella and spilled coffee all over her. Some of it splattered on me and a few others around us, but nothing was like the huge stain that decorated her shirt and pants. Stella blushed a light pink from neck to dirty blonde hair.

"I'm _so _sorry," said the guy who spilled the coffee, picking up the two cups and their tops from the floor.

"Uh, no, uh it's all right. Really, I'm fine," she replied, bending down to help retrieve them as well. I went to the front counter and brought a stack of napkins with me. Stella and the guy each took about half. That's when I got a real good look at him.

Soft brown eyes, straight brown hair, and, even though he wasn't smiling at that moment, I could tell he did often. The reason he bumped into Stella was probably the armload of travel magazines he was carrying, but set down on a table nearby with his backpack-a backpack that had a receipt for Pink Berry frozen yogurt, one of Stella's absolute favorites, stuffed in the pocket. In short, he was a heaven sent miracle that Cupid himself had probably chosen for Stella. Problem was that she wouldn't acknowledge it.

"So, what's your name?" he asked her when we got out of the line and the whole commotion settled down. Take note that he asked what _her _name was, not what _our _names were, which is a _very _good sign indeed.

"I'm Stella," she said, and then gestured to me, "and this is my friend Eloise." Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she took in my rather exasperated expression. How can she be so-so- agh!

"My name is Jake," he said, with a _trés_ _adorable _New York accent, extending his hand to _her_. Oblivious, she shook it. No small smile or-or, well, any subtle flirty gesture really. It seemed that I must hold an intervention, and quickly.

"So, Jake, are you an avid traveler?" I asked eyeing his magazines which had little multi-colored tabs jutting out of what seemed every other page. He let out a small laugh, which proved I was correct about him having a nice smile.

"I wish," he said, "I'm trying to save up to go to Rio, but…." he shrugged.

"Rio?" Stella asked excitedly, "As in Rio de Janeiro?" It was a shame I didn't have sunglasses, because Jake's smile became 5 times brighter. This was going fabulously! I sat back and for fifteen minutes enjoyed their conversation about Rio, but, even more, how they were hitting it off. It all went down hill when an error of epic proportions was committed:

"Anyways, I have to go," he said after we'd all gotten our coffee. "It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah," Stella nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

No numbers were asked, no date was arranged, not even some kind of promise to meet up again! Obviously, neither one of them were thinking at the moment. And of course I couldn't give Stella's number myself or ask for his; no, that would turn the downhill spiral into a crash and burn situation. Using all the will power I had, I held my tongue until we left Starbucks.

"_Vous est impossible!"_ I exclaimed.

"How am I impossible?" Stella asked incredulously.

"A number. A date-how hard are either of those things to ask for?" Stella rolled her eyes at me as if _I _was the one who had lost her mind.

"Look, he wasn't even that interested in me." Right; and Coco Chanel is not really that great. I sighed. Convincing Stella would be like trying to pull teeth from a lion's mouth. Matters were now to be taken into my own hands.


	4. Chapter 4 Of Toys and Thieves

**Kevin**

"Yes," he said, head snapping up. It wasn't in an annoyed way, just eager. His bright smile faltered a bit as he squinted to get a closer look at me. He cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Uh, pardon me for staring, but you look terribly familiar."I smiled.

"I'm Kevin McCallister. You gave me the turtle doves. Oh, and I'm glad to see your windows repaired." Recognition sparked in his eyes and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He waved to a nearby employee and motioned her to take his place for him. As he was getting out of his chair, I noticed that for the most part, he was basically the same-as far as appearances go-but he moved slower and with much more effort than last time.

"My, what a strapping young lad you've become! And to think that I'm really this old!" He laughed good-naturedly. "But enough about me, what brings you here?" He motioned for me to follow him through the store.

"I got a job at the Plaza and I just thought I'd stop by and see you." I shrugged. I would have felt a bit embarrassed if I admitted to him that I needed to see a familiar face-not to say that city people weren't nice and all, but...

"The Plaza! How long have you been working there?"

"I start my job behind the accounting desk tomorrow." He seemed a bit surprised at that. Was it really so hard to believe that I could manage a desk job?

"I never thought accounting was really your-"

"Well, I wanted to try out a desk job, and, I don't know, I'm really good with numbers..." I faltered, wincing internally for interrupting him and babbling like that. But he didn't seem bothered by it. He nodded thoughtfully. Behind us, a man in a suit came striding towards Mr. Duncan. The man seemed a bit weary, as if he had to do something he really didn't want to.

"Sir, your nephew is on the phone and-" Mr. Duncan cut him off with an exasperated wave of his hand. He sighed and turned to me.

"I'm sorry, Kevin, but I have to go and take care of business matters. But I do insist that you visit again soon." I nodded, and promised Mr. Duncan that I would be coming back soon. I intended to leave right after, but changed my mind last minute. I decided that I could just explore the store and all it had to offer for just a little while longer...

* * *

><p>"Who was that?" Bill Grayson asked Mr. Duncan as a young blonde man waved goodbye.<p>

"Potentially, the next owner of Duncan's Toy Chest," Mr. Duncan replied thoughtfully. The man turned to him in surprise.

"But, then, what about Mr.-" The old man silenced him with one raised eyebrow.

"You and I both know that I never intended him to take on the business and never will. I would think that you've heard me say that to him enough that you would know." The man nodded, feeling embarrassed that he had forgotten.

* * *

><p><strong>Eloise<strong>

"Mother, when do you think you'll be able to come back?" I asked as we stood in the lobby. Saying goodbye to her this trip was more upsetting than usual-probably because she had stayed for too short of a time. But what is one to do when Steve Jobs wished to discuss the investment of a new product with you?

"Oh, Eloise, I promise to try to come home in time for Christmas," she said apologetically. "But for now, _revoir,_ Darling." We hugged farewell, and she was off. I sighed, unable to bring myself to leave right away.

"Move!" an woman so rudely commanded as she drove through me. I would've protested but she seemed absolutely livid. Apprehension slid through me as I saw that she was making her way to the front desk. Poor Mr. Salamone... "GONE! MY CREDIT CARD, MY JEWELS! THE THIEF BETTER HOPE THAT THE HOTEL GETS THEIR HANDS ON HIM BEFORE I DO!" Mr. Salamone made a please-calm-down-_madadame_ gesture with his hands.

"Don't worry, Ms. Shire, this hotel with do everything we can to catch the culprits and return your items."

"Be sure that you do!" That was all she said before storming off, exiting in a slightly less huff than she entered. I turned and headed toward the kitchen-I hadn't had breakfast yet and it was already nine!-and planned to dismiss the whole episode. But, like a Chanel dress in pink, it nagged at me and insisted that it stay in my mind.

* * *

><p>"Sir, this is the third theft in the past month," Jay, a bell boy, whisper to him when they were sure no one could hear.<p>

"I know," Mr. Salamone irritatedly whispered back. "Which is why it's all the more pressing that we catch them soon."


	5. Chapter 5 A Rather Peculiar Meeting

**Eloise**

I always order some rather hot coffee in the morning. Although, I never order a whole cup-I'm not the coffee drinker Nanny was. I let my gaze wander around my cluttered room, trying not to let loneliness wash over me. When Nanny was alive, she'd always ask me about what I planned to do, and how my day was. I mean, Rose and Stella and others do that too…but it's not the same.

It hasn't been the same.

It never will be the same.

At times like this especially, I miss her. My eyes fall on a notebook that rested on the coffee table. I really should get started on that Christmas list…

* * *

><p><strong>Kevin<strong>

The entrance of the Plaza spanned the whole block, letting you know that that was its territory. Limos and taxis would pull up every now and then to drop off one of its wealthy, high-class passengers. This is only the beginning of what threw me off about the Plaza.

This place seemed to transcend time.

As I grew up, the dark didn't seem as scary, the top shelf didn't seem as high, and girls didn't seem as icky. But the Plaza was something else.

In size, the Plaza fit right in with the rest of New York's buildings—tall and imposing. But it wasn't as modern or cold in design. It seemed like something out of another era in time, and the horse drawn carriages that passed by every now and then only added to the effect. I felt the same way walking up to it now, as I did fifteen years back. Only now, that awe was mixed in with that first-day-of-school jitters.

Somehow I managed to work up the nerve to go in again, not as a guest anymore, but as an employee.

Passed the heavy front door held open for me by the doorman was the lobby, decorated for the upcoming Christmas season. Here and there were guests, checking in or out. Feeling very out of place among all the-the splendor that was the Plaza, I approached a bald man in an impeccable suit who was behind the front desk.

"Mr. Salamone?" I asked hesitantly. The man at the front desk turned, allowing me to register his aging features: dark eyes, serious disposition, and a downward turned mouth. Normally, these traits would've given anyone a mean look, but on him they just looked….I don't know. He just seemed the kind of guy who didn't have a hair out of place (metaphorically speaking).

"Yes?" He said it in a way that was obvious that he had been doing this for a long time.

"I'm Kevin McCallister, one the the new—"

"Ah, yes!" Recognition drew on his face. "But I wasn't expecting you until 8:45." I glanced at the old fashioned clock hanging next to the desk.

"Uh, it's 8:40…"

"Well, it's nice to know you're an early bird." Luckily, I was spared from having to come up with a reply for that when Mr. Salamone waved over one of the bell boys—a guy who looked late twenties, early thirties.

"Yes, Mr. Salamone." Man, he sounded like he must've been one good boy scout when he was younger.

"Jay, would you show Mr. McCallister to the accounting room?" The guy—Jay—nodded and motioned for me to follow him.

"Ever been to the Plaza before?" he asked in the elevator.

"Yeah, but that's a long story…" I said, shaking my head at the memory.

* * *

><p>Accounting wasn't hard. The office I shared with two other guys was nice. The only thing that was off putting was the Mrs. Feltcher's creepy secretary (I swear she was probably well acquainted with my evil six grade math teacher). All in all, the day speed by. Before I knew it, it was time to clock out. At around eight o'clock, I was surprised by Jay dropping by the accounting office again.<p>

"Uh, hey..." Jay apparently didn't find his arrival strange or surprising at all.

"The chef has this thing that on the first day of every new employee, that person has to have one of his 'creations'." He said it as if he had recited it before, although his voice held as much amusement as boredom.

That was how I found myself making my way into a bustling kitchen that kinda reminded me of an ant farm-all those workers moving here and there, moving as if they were bio-scripted to know where and how. From any given direction, the sounds of pot and pans could be heard, along with the tantalizing aroma of all the foods.

But just as Jay and I were about to step from the doorway into the room, I heard a loud scream from behind.

"LOOK OUT!"

Jay and I only had a split second to throw our backs against the wall as a girl on roller skates flew by. I watched as she ducked under trays and swerved through the staff, nearly causing serveral of them to drop the food. She also was barely able to move out of the way in time before colliding into two men carrying a giant cake. Of course her sudden veer sent her back to our direction.

I stepped back against the wall and, this time, when she was speeding by, I grabbed her by the hand. Her momentum was so great that I nearly fell forward, but luckily I was able to hold my ground.

"Sorry!" she said apologetically to everyone in the kitchen. The overall reaction: silently acknowleding or just plain ignoring her. That didn't seem to put a dent in her mood though. She just flipped her light blonde hair over her shoulder and began taking the roller skates off, and putting them back into her backpack, where she also retrieved her shoes.

She turned to me."Thank you, by the way. I assure you, it won't happen again. I'm sure that I'll master stopping next time." Then, she noticed Jay and turned her attention to him.

"Eloise," he said exasperated. "_Why_?" The girl-Eloise-just shrugged.

"The gym was crowded today."

* * *

><p><strong>Finally! they meet! i thought a lot about this chapter, and was seriously wondering how should Eloise meet Kevin. I thought the weirdest way u could meet Eloise is prob the most normal. <strong>


	6. Chapter 6 Very Well

**Kevin**

Jay sighed, shook his head, and walked away as if she had just told him two plus two equals five.

"Hey, Eloise, maybe you can get Kevin through his first initiation with the Chef. I better get home soon." Then, he added pointedly, "_Try _to stay out of trouble." Eloise placed her hand on her chest, appalled.

"Moi? When do I ever do that?" Jay just snorted and waved goodbye.

She shrugged, and then turned back to me.

"I'm sorry; you must think I'm terribly rude. I'm Eloise. And you?"

"Kevin. Kevin McCallister."

"Ah, so you are the new accountant!" A man with a thick Italian accent called from behind me. I faced the source: a tall, sorta plump, guy with a round face and chef hat on top of short cut black hair. "Have you ever had food from the Plaza?" He asked this question with the same enthusiasm that has Megan when she used to ask if some guy was really into her or not.

"Yeah, but that was a while back," I responded.

"Really?" Eloise and the Chef both said in unison. Was that the wrong answer?

"What did you have?" the Chef asked excitedly. I cocked my head to the side for a second trying to remember what I ordered via room service fourteen years ago.

"Hm…an ice cream sundae, with the works: hot fudge, vanilla ice cream, nuts, cherries, sprinkles." My mouth started to salivate at the thought.

"Ah!" the Chef chuckled. "A man with a sweet tooth! Chef Romani knows just what to make!" And without another word he turned back to the kitchen. That left me at the mercy of Eloise's interrogation.

"So where are you from?"

"Chicago."

"Any family?"

"Yeah, two older brothers and two older sisters."

"Wow," she sighed, leaning forward in her stool, elbows on the the table. "Was it fun having so many siblings?"

"I guess...why, don't you have any?" She shook her head.

"Nope. I've lived at the Plaza most my life, and I gave them enough trouble without adding any siblings into the mix." Against my will, my mouth quirked up into a sly smile.

"Hey, we all get into a bit of mischief, right?" She nodded, laughing. "So, how do you live at the Plaza? Do you have like a seperate room?"

"You could call it that. Though, to be honest, for a few years I was forced away from the Plaza and sent to board at Madeline Prep."

"Forced away from the Plaza?"

"You said you stayed at the Plaza before, so tell me: is there any place more wonderful?" Just as I was about to answer a slice of moist chocolate cake was placed in front of me, and the smell of it alone was enough to silence anybody.

"Enjoy!" The Chef said this with a flourish as he set another plate of cake in front of Eloise.

"Thanks," I said as Eloise gave a very cheery, 'merci'. Hey, maybe Eloise was right, what could be better than the Plaza?

* * *

><p>Joe and Morris stood in the elevator, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Although, with a backpack full of goods in their bag, it was better said than done. On the ninth floor, they got off. Their boss's place in Manhattan may not be a Plaza, but it sure was classy all the same: the black and tan tiled floor, the wall moldings, and, heck, that was only the foyer.<p>

"You idiots are late." The source of the voice came from the top of the loft stairs, in the form of a finely dressed young man. "I was supposed to arrive at that idiot Duncan's stupid charity event by now. Whatever you have, it better be worth it."

"Yeah, boss," Morris nodded frantically. "We snagged that old hags rings, a copy of Jane Terry's file that you wanted, and a couple of credit card numbers too."

"Very well," their boss said, rather uninterestingly. But they knew he was pleased with their work, and even if he wasn't, he still paid them with a nice wad of cash.


	7. Chapter 7 Another Peculiar Meeting

**Kevin**

"Well, Kevin, don't you think you need to add a Rolex watch or something? You haven't reached the nines just yet."

"Sorry, Rolex is getting fixed along with my private jet," I said without even turning away from the mirror to look at Jake's direction.

Dressing up was never something I was real keen about (I mean, come on, what guy _really _is?), but today in Mr. Duncan's shop, when he invited me to his charity event, I wasn't about to slack off cause of that. I didn't have that much money, but renting a tux wasn't that hard and I was able to borrow some shoes from Jake, so this night won't put a gaping hole in my pocket (managing the time to get from the Plaza to catch the bus and run to said tuxedo rental store which concierge was so kind to give me the address to is another story).

"So, why'd Mr. Duncan invite you? I mean, no offense, but you're not exactly in the money-to-burn lane." I just shrugged, and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"I saved his store once and, well, I guess we just kinda have that history, ya know?" A moment of silence passed, as if Jake was waiting for me to say more, maybe tell the story, but when I didn't I guess he knew I wouldn't. Maybe I'd tell him some other time, but….just not now.

"Anyways, tell me if the champagne was served in gold chalices or silver, alright?" A let out a quick laugh and just replied 'alright'.

Not long after, I was headed out the door to the subway where the grand door of Duncan's Charity Reception awaited.

The ceiling was so tall that I had to tip my head all the way back just to see its sleek modern design that criss-crossed all over it. And the place itself was as big as a football field and little reminders of the holidays, like an ornament here and there, and tinsel around the centerpiece decorated the place, to get people in the giving mood, I guess. Caters were wandering around aimlessly, kind of like some of the rich guest here, at least, you know, _before _they light up like a candle cause they spotted someone they recognize. For the first twenty minutes of the party, I couldn't find Mr. Duncan, and when I did he was literally _surrounded _by people.

Guess he's more of a charismatic host than I anticipated.

While I was turning around—probably going to just check on those trays the caters were carrying—when I smack into a woman wearing a fancy white dress. Her heels were high so she stumbled and would've fallen if I didn't reach out and grab her arms at the elbows. Thank God she wasn't holding a drink or bump into anyone else or anything, so the damage—and disruption—was at a minimum, for now.

"I'm so sorry," I said, expecting her to snap at me or something. She gave a short, kinda delicate laugh and smiled. She had the same white, pearly teeth as everyone here, but her smile seemed different…a little familiar even.

"It's quite alright….um…hm…I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. What is your name?"

"Kevin. Kevin McCalister." I held out my hand awkwardly. She was the first person to ask me my name tonight, and I was pretty relieved that I found someone to talk to (even if she was a middle aged woman instead of some heiress in a red dress who was bored with rich guys and preferred 'em blonde and charming, like yours truly). "And you are….?"

"Ms. LaBelle!" A voice, followed by a tall, brunette guy, came towards us.

"Michael," Ms. LaBelle smiled. "I do hope your mother and father are enjoying their vacation in Hawaii. I hear it's rather lovely this time of year." And I back to being out of it.

* * *

><p><strong>For the Queen of Sharks, and all those who love the Plaza. <strong>


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